


losing sleep

by taiyaki (ballonlea)



Category: DREAM!ing (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Exhibitionism, M/M, Post-Canon (by a few years), kinda? the premise is that yuma records the whole thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballonlea/pseuds/taiyaki
Summary: “What did you dream about, Yuma?” Yanagi asked, beginning to unbutton his shirt. If Yuma’s memory was correct, it was the same shirt he’d accidentally ripped a button off in a fervent attempt to get Yanagi undressed a few weeks ago. Yanagi wasn’t mad, but Yuma sewed it back on for him anyway.“What did I dream about…?” Yuma echoed. “Just now?”“Yes.” Yanagi tossed his shirt on the floor, working at his pants next. “Just now.”
Relationships: Hanabusa Yanagi/Mochizuki Yuuma
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	losing sleep

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry, class

Yuma looked too cute when he was sleeping.

Yanagi ran his hands along Yuma’s sides. He really was  _ so  _ cute, and he really did deserve this rest, especially with how hard he’d been working lately. All day today and yesterday, Yuma had been getting ahead on his manga work. It had done so well in high school, so they both really should have expected that its popularity would explode after Yuma graduated. Just the other day, Yuma had been on the phone with his manager, discussing different licensing opportunities for overseas fans. International fame! Yuma really would be up at all hours if he could reach that far.

It almost made Yanagi feel bad for wanting to interrupt him.

Yuma shifted a little, a soft sigh escaping him, and any sliver of Yanagi feeling  _ bad  _ was replaced by how badly he wanted to shove his cock between those lips.

Yanagi took a breath, trying to push the thought to the back of his mind. He knew from experience that  _ that  _ was no fun when Yuma was sleeping. He liked  _ that  _ much better when Yuma was wide awake and attentive, when he’d coat Yanagi in licks and kisses and warmth so intense that Yanagi thought he was going to die each time, and if he thought about it for too long, he probably wouldn’t even need to turn to a sleeping Yuma for his pleasure.

He let his hand find the front of Yuma’s pants, and he gave a few long, gentle strokes. Yanagi had to be careful—they’d discovered that Yuma was  _ much  _ more sensitive when he was asleep. 

But part of him… didn’t want to be careful. Part of him wanted to ruin Yuma right then and there. He liked the power it gave him. He liked how Yuma enjoyed waking up only to see Yanagi using him. He  _ lived  _ for that sleepy gaze, for the blush that dusted his cheeks, for the way Yuma would mumble Yanagi’s name like he still had one foot in his dream world.

Yuma stirred just slightly when Yanagi’s strokes became a little firmer. Yanagi paused for a moment. Waited. Yuma didn’t wake up, so Yanagi tugged his pants down, choosing to palm Yuma through the fabric of his underwear instead. Yuma gasped—if he hadn’t felt it that much before, then he surely felt it now.

Yanagi wondered if his touches ever reached Yuma’s dreams. They hadn’t really discussed it before, mainly because Yanagi neglected to ask, and Yuma hardly remembered. But he thought about it often enough. Did Yuma dream about Yanagi touching him? Was it someone faceless? Something deep inside Yanagi almost wanted it to be someone else—if only so he could fuck naughty dreams like those right out of Yuma’s mind.

Yanagi leaned over Yuma, gently cupping his cheek. His sleeping face was so  _ soft, _ so  _ innocent. _ He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and realistically, he was either dreaming about drawing the rest of next week’s chapter or about baking a big basket of sweets to give to the office.

Yanagi didn’t want to just ruin him. He wanted to  _ destroy _ him.

“Yuma,” he whispered, not quite loud enough for anyone but himself to hear. “You want me, don’t you?”

Yuma, of course, didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. Yanagi could imagine how he’d sound. He’d… probably be rather dull about it, actually. He’d say yes, but he’d tell Yanagi to make it quick. It was a busy time of the week, after all.

Yanagi could make it quick.

He stroked Yuma a little faster, a little more urgently. If Yuma had been awake, he’d probably be whimpering. He always made the cutest, quietest little noises when they did things like this, and Yanagi always did his best to draw each and every sound out of him. Yuma rather enjoyed it when it was quick, anyway. Just last week, Yuma had been pleading for Yanagi to hurry up, and Yanagi hadn’t stopped thinking about how Yuma’s nails had dug into his skin at his disobedience. It made Yanagi wonder if there was a deeper side to Yuma that he had yet to unlock, if his general willingness to go along with whatever kink Yanagi wanted to try was just a mask for what he really wanted.

Yuma’s hips twitched, almost has if he knew what Yanagi was thinking. His face was a little more flushed now, but Yanagi was more interested in the wet spot on his boxers. It felt nice to get Yuma so riled up. When Yuma was awake, he seemed to try and keep those small motions under control, but when he was so vulnerable like this, he could do nothing to stop the way he naturally pushed his hips into Yanagi’s hand or the way he spread his legs a little wider. And Yanagi just  _ loved  _ seeing how Yuma’s body reacted to him. Even the smallest little movements left Yanagi on an indescribable high.

“Ya—” Yuma gasped, and Yanagi couldn’t stop himself in time. “Yanagi—!”

Yanagi was at least nice enough to help Yuma ride out his orgasm. He was disappointed in himself for not being careful enough to make this last a little longer, though.

“You made a mess,” Yanagi said, gently rubbing Yuma’s thigh.

Yuma blinked at him a couple of times. “I thought you were making dinner.”

Because when Yuma had fallen asleep, Yanagi  _ was  _ talking about how he was going to make dinner. That idea clearly seemed to have been quickly discarded, in favor of… other activities. Which Yuma had most definitely agreed to a little while ago, but he thought maybe Yanagi would have taken care of food before getting right down to business. Yanagi seemed rather pleased with himself, though, and Yuma certainly felt good. So while he was a little hungry, he wasn’t opposed to being woken up like this.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Yuma said. His glasses were on a surface somewhere between the nightstand and his desk, and he could just barely make out Yanagi’s features, but he could see that Yanagi had that look in his eye that made Yuma feel all sorts of ways. “But I’d really like it if you took these off.”

Yanagi was eager to oblige, practically ripping Yuma’s underwear off his body. Yuma was more than happy to lay back and let Yanagi do whatever he pleased. Yuma wasn’t particularly picky about what he did or didn’t like—he felt like he’d always been too busy to think much about sex, and he didn’t think he had enough experience to truly know what he wanted—but he  _ loved _ seeing Yanagi enjoy himself, so an arrangement like this left Yuma immensely satisfied when it was all said and done.

“What did you dream about, Yuma?” Yanagi asked, beginning to unbutton his shirt. If Yuma’s memory was correct, it was the same shirt he’d accidentally ripped a button off in a fervent attempt to get Yanagi undressed a few weeks ago. Yanagi wasn’t mad, but Yuma sewed it back on for him anyway.

“What did I dream about…?” Yuma echoed. “Just now?”

“Yes.” Yanagi tossed his shirt on the floor, working at his pants next. “Just now.”

Yuma closed his eyes, letting his mind wander back a few moments in time. He’d been having a pleasant dream, actually, where Yanagi had stopped by while he was working in the publishing office. It wasn’t a very unusual situation. Yanagi liked to drop in when he could, even if it was just to sit with Yuma for a while as he worked, and Yuma always looked forward to it.

“You were rubbing my shoulders and telling me I was doing a good job,” Yuma said, and he could still feel it if he concentrated hard enough. “And I was  _ so _ tired.”

Yanagi said nothing. All Yuma could hear was fabric moving against itself as Yanagi continued to undress, and he took it as a sign to continue.

“And then I was sitting in your lap, and I couldn’t focus like that, but it was nice.”

“That’s all?”

“No.” Yuma felt the flush returning to his face. “You were touching me so nicely. I didn’t want it to end, but at the same time, I wanted a lot more. I really wanted you to just fuck me already.”

Silence. Yuma bit his lip. He figured Yanagi liked hearing that, even if it felt a little odd to say. Yanagi just liked it when Yuma was honest about what he wanted, and if he was going to be honest…

“I was a little sad when I woke up, and you hadn’t even put it in.” Yuma pouted. “It was really good last time.”

Yuma heard Yanagi’s breath hitch, and he opened his eyes to see Yanagi stroking himself. Had he really been so invested in Yuma that he neglected to tend to his own needs? The sight sent heat straight to Yuma’s stomach, and he was almost surprised at how going for a second time was so appealing so quickly.

He… almost wanted to take a picture.

Almost.

He glanced to his left, seeing Yanagi’s phone right next to his glasses. Much closer than he expected it to be. And the temptation to take a picture only grew stronger, but Yanagi took Yuma’s chin in his hand and forced his face forward again.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Yanagi said. “And only on me.” 

Much closer now, Yanagi dove in for a kiss, and Yuma didn’t realize how badly he wanted to be kissed until it was happening. He liked that Yanagi always kissed him so hungrily—he always started with long, loving kisses, but they quickly devolved into shorter, more desperate ones the longer it went on for. It all made Yuma’s head spin, and he could hardly ever keep up, but he liked how lovely Yanagi looked whenever he pulled away.

Yuma took Yanagi’s face in his hands, his thumbs ghosting over the tops of his cheeks. “You’re so pretty.”

Yanagi was taken aback by the sudden softness. Yuma really had no business being so  _ cute  _ when Yanagi’s desires were so impure. But he smiled, he let the facade drop for a moment, and he let Yuma touch his face and and run his fingers through his hair and look at him with that sweet smile of his.

“What am I going to do with you, Yuma?” he whispered, laughing when Yuma pinched his cheek.

“Hopefully you’ll give me more kisses,” Yuma said, and it melted Yanagi’s heart.

Yanagi had no qualms about a request like that; despite all that he was thinking before, he really did enjoy spending a little time just kissing Yuma. Yanagi’s goal of destroying him could be put on hold for a few while he gave Yuma a million and one kisses.

Yanagi left kisses along Yuma’s neck, on his chest, up and down his arms, on his stomach… In a slightly more innocent situation, Yanagi might have accompanied those kisses with  _ I love you here… and here… and here… and here… _

He pressed soft, feather-light kisses against Yuma’s hips. He was so pale there. His hip bone jutted out just slightly, just enough for Yanagi to furrow his brows and murmur something or other about being worried, about Yuma needing to remember to eat more often. His Yuma, always so forgetful. His Yuma, always worrying about things other than himself.

He stopped close to Yuma’s dick, glancing up.

His Yuma, always looking so  _ pretty. _

Yuma’s eyes were almost glazed over. He was biting down pretty hard on his bottom lip, looking like he’d be just about begging if he could find any words at all. He attempted to push his hips forward, but Yanagi was faster, keeping his hands firmly near those bones he had been so concerned about before.

“So greedy, Yuma,” Yanagi chided. “You’ve already come once already, and I’ve gotten nothing at all.”

Yuma shivered, feeling Yanagi’s breath, his  _ warmth  _ so close yet so far at the same time. “Maybe you should help us both out, then.”

Yanagi wasted no time preparing—if Yuma was going to ask, then he was going to answer. He adored how Yuma’s cheeks colored a dark, dark pink when he slipped a finger inside, then two, then that pink made its way to the very tips of Yuma’s ears.

And when they were both certain that Yuma was ready, Yanagi pushed in, slowly and carefully and with all the gentleness Yuma liked. It took Yanagi every ounce of willpower he had to keep from just taking what he wanted. What he really wanted, anyway, was for Yuma to feel good.

(He just had to work on stomping out that urge, that instinct to fuck into Yuma so hard he’d nearly pass out.)

“Can I move?” Yanagi asked, after a few moments. 

“W-Wait,” Yuma said. “M-May I—”

Yuma covered up his face with his hands.

“Are you alright?”

“I wanna record it. You.” Yuma peeked out from between his fingers, slowly moving them out of the way entirely. “P-Please.”

The request sent adrenaline through Yanagi’s veins. Yuma wanted to take a video? It was fine by him. It was more than fine. The faintest thought of what Yuma would do with that video—of him alone on a lazy afternoon, eyes glued to a screen and fingers wrapped tightly around himself—it was so vivid and enticing that Yanagi didn’t have to think twice about his response.

“Go ahead, Yuma,” Yanagi said. “Record whatever you’d like.”

Yuma reached for Yanagi’s phone, just close enough that he didn’t have to stretch for it. He still wasn’t that good with technology, but he knew his way well enough around this particular phone.

And he also knew that Yanagi must be tortured by this delay. Yuma could pretend to forget his way to the camera.

He wasn’t cruel enough to fumble for too long, though. Yuma’s hands shook as he tapped the record button. Yanagi was perfectly in frame, looking just over the lens at Yuma. He raised an eyebrow.

“Ready now?” he asked, and his voice was kind, but he looked like he was about one second away from moving no matter what Yuma’s answer was.

“Ready,” Yuma said.

He was given about two seconds to brace himself before Yanagi set the pace—just quick enough for Yuma to barely be able to keep up. Yuma didn’t hate how easily Yanagi could rip cries from his throat. He wished, maybe, that he could make Yanagi work for it a little more, but at the end of the day, he was always satisfied.

Yanagi dug his fingers into Yuma’s thighs, spreading his legs a little wider. His eyes were hazy, fixated on Yuma so intensely that Yuma wasn’t sure he could look away. It was a nice look on him. So nice, in fact, that Yuma had let the camera’s lens slip a little. Yanagi was crooked in his frame.

“So pretty,” Yuma breathed. “So good, Yanagi.”

Yanagi groaned at the praise, and it felt like he was fucking Yuma with a  _ purpose  _ now. Just how he liked. Sometimes, it felt like Yanagi only put half of his heart into everything. And Yuma knew that it was hard for Yanagi to devote himself to things. He knew that, and he understood that, and he helped guide Yanagi as much as he could whenever he was able to.

This was just one of those times.

And the guidance worked—it  _ worked  _ so beautifully, and Yuma almost wailed when Yanagi hit just the right spot. The phone slipped out of his hand without him even realizing, and when he opened his eyes to retrieve it, it was already in one of Yanagi’s hands.

“Do it again,” Yuma said, rolling his hips into Yanagi’s thrust to try and get the same angle. “Please.”

“Wow,” was all Yanagi said, watching the Yuma on the screen rather than the real Yuma.

But he seemed to listen, and soon he was hitting that spot with every other movement. And Yuma could hardly take it anymore! But Yanagi was so transfixed with the image on the screen that Yuma’s pleas fell on deaf ears. He just wanted—he  _ needed  _ Yanagi to—

“Look at yourself, Yuma.” 

Yanagi slowed for just a second, rolling his hips lazily into Yuma as he tapped at the screen and flipped the phone over. The front camera was on Yuma now, and he could just barely focus on the image of him, fingers clutching at the sheets, face flushed, cock dripping as Yanagi fucked him, and he was  _ there,  _ he was  _ right there— _

And he could barely register anything for a moment, besides how good he felt and how good Yanagi was telling him he looked.

He was still whining, still whimpering as Yanagi finished too, just soon enough that the overstimulation wouldn’t be painful. They remained together until they both caught their breaths, and only then did Yanagi pull out, flopping down next to Yuma.

He held the phone out. “That was fun.”

Yuma took the device, navigating to the camera roll to make sure their hard work didn’t go to waste. He tapped on the video. Yanagi’s voice came first, gentle and caring, and then the  _ noises  _ came, and they were a little too loud, but—

“This is excellent pose reference,” Yuma said, tapping the pause button. “Thank you.”

Yuma didn’t have to look to know Yanagi was rolling his eyes. “You’re very welcome, Yuma. Anything for you.”

Yanagi reached for him like it was instinct, pulled him close into his chest and squeezed him tight.

“I’m very sticky,” Yuma noted.

“You can be sticky,” Yanagi said. “I’ll still love you.”

It was enough to soothe Yuma, to allow him to relax into Yanagi’s embrace. Despite how he had quite literally  _ just  _ been napping, he felt quite sleepy once again. He let Yanagi’s soft words lull him back into his dreamland, back into the office where Yanagi was rubbing his shoulders and telling him to relax.

This time, though, he woke up to the smell of curry and the sound of Yanagi gently waking him up.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mezzosaka)


End file.
